


Killing With Kindness

by Jaune_Chat



Series: Love and War Stories [1]
Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Explicit Sexual Content, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oral Sex, Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-18
Updated: 2009-03-18
Packaged: 2017-12-03 05:55:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/694917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaune_Chat/pseuds/Jaune_Chat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Mohinder picks up Luke after Sylar abandons him, Luke has no idea what his rescuer wants from him.  After all, shouldn't he want to take advantage?  Everyone else did...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Killing With Kindness

**Author's Note:**

> S3, post 3x19 “Shades of Gray”. Written for the YAHAKM, for the prompt, “Mohinder/Luke, Mohinder shows Luke what love/affection/caring really is. Slow, sweet sex. Luke overwhelmed and unsure how to deal with his emotions & a relationship that isn't abusive.”
> 
> The underage warning is because Luke is 17 in this fic, which is under the age of consent in some places.

For the first day after Mohinder had picked Luke up from the closed diner, Luke had stayed silent, watching the man warily. He’d claimed he was an “old acquaintance” of Sylar’s, and had been trying to help “clean up his mess before it got out of hand.” That made Luke part of the mess. That made Luke trash. 

Well, that was better than not knowing what your place was at all. Sylar had been the same. If Luke chattered too much, he got slammed up against a wall. If he didn’t pull his weight, he’d be left behind. If he was too annoying, he was ignored, denied the attention he craved until he made it up to Sylar. That usually involved crawling on his knees, begging Sylar to let him blow him, offering his ass, or whatever else would get a reaction. At least Luke knew what was going on with Sylar though; he was pretty certain about what he wanted.

But Luke wasn’t certain at all what Mohinder wanted. He never ordered Luke around, only made suggestions. He didn’t cuff him when he got in the way, he didn’t ignore Luke’s requests (though he politely, not ostentatiously, ignored the illegal ones), and hadn’t made a single sexual demand. All he did was drive, and converse with Luke about everything from the science of abilities (though he hadn’t asked Luke to demonstrate his, or even mentioned if he had any powers) to eclipses. It was starting to freak Luke right the heck out.

By the end of the third day, Luke was wondering what was wrong with him. Was all this talk some kind of ignoring him? Mohinder hadn’t even touched Luke yet, not even to slap him around, not even when Luke was jerking off in the shower in the mornings. Did Luke repulse him? Did he even give a rat’s ass? Or was he just lulling Luke into a false sense of security before he made his demands? He hadn’t asked Luke to contribute towards food, gas, or lodgings, so maybe he was waiting for the perfect time to get repayment.

That had to be it. There wasn’t any such thing as a free lunch. Luke had learned that lesson early and well. Maybe Mohinder was just one of those guys that had to build up a good head of steam before getting off. And if that was the case, Luke better try to head him off. His dad used to delay punishing Luke for days, only to come after him when he least expected him, with cigarettes or a belt or his fists. 

Luke didn’t want to wait. He hadn’t had to wait with Sylar, and if he got a few bruises and some verbal slaps for asking, at least he’d gotten off too. If he needed to, Luke was sure he could provoke Mohinder into taking his payment early, while Luke was still capable of handling it. Better that than not being able to walk or take a dump for the next three days. It was coming, it was all a matter of when.

So the fourth day, instead of jerking off in the shower, Luke just cleaned himself, prepped as best he could with a little bottle of lotion, stroked himself just hard, and padded out to the room naked. That had never failed to get Sylar to do _something_ him, and the mornings were a much better time to try to get him in a good mood. Otherwise a grumpy Sylar made for a dangerous traveling companion. Two of Luke’s ribs, still mending, gave mute testimony to that.

Mohinder had been reading, one of the weird books he carried with him, when Luke rounded the corner. His head shot up in surprise and his mouth fell open. Luke smirked at the reaction, glad to see he’d managed to prod him into _something_ approximating a normal state of affairs, as far as he was concerned.

“What do you want?” Luke asked brazenly. 

“What?” Mohinder gaped, eyes wide, presumably with lust. Sylar had liked him well enough, his pale skin and skinny body. Easy to bruise, easy to show where he’d been. Dominance marks. A few were still showing, from where he’d been slammed into that wall. Maybe Mohinder liked that too.

“Whatever you want, for, you know, food and stuff. Want me to suck you off? Want my ass? I’ll do whatever you want, I don’t care,” Luke said, eager to get the worst over and done with. Once he knew was Mohinder wanted, he could at least attempt to stay on top of his needs and out of his way. Not knowing why Mohinder was traveling with Sylar’s trash was making him nervous practically to the point of being panicky. 

“Was that what Sylar did?”

Luke didn’t hear the question at first. He had been ready to hear, “On your knees,” or “on the bed,” or “turn around and grab your ankles” or something of the sort. Not hearing that threw him off his game. Again.

“Uh… yeah. I mean, I went with him, so, you know, that was how it went,” Luke said, not having the presence of mind to make up a lie.

Mohinder shook his head, looking down, and Luke felt the bitter sting of rejection.

“What the _fuck_ man? What do you want? What is it? I’m not your type? What?” Luke yelled. Being repressed for three days, his power shimmered to his hands, and Luke lashed out at the television, just wanting _something_ to make sense for once. The TV popped and fizzled, the back blowing out and the glass warping.

Mohinder jumped, looking startled and surprised, but not afraid.

“Luke, please, I didn’t mean to make you upset,” he said soothingly. Luke didn’t want to be fucking _soothed_. He aimed his palm at Mohinder, feeling a heavy weight of confidence settling into his mind. Mohinder didn’t want him, fine. Then Luke would fry his lame ass and try to find Sylar somehow. At least he understood what Sylar wanted! He didn’t have to stay with Mohinder. He didn’t have to do anything…

“I’m not your enemy. I’m trying to help you. Please, I know Sylar, I know he was hard on you. He’s no good with emotions, no good at relationships, no good, I’m afraid, at anything but killing. There, he excels,” Mohinder explained. He sounded almost… bitter. 

“Why the fuck do you care what happens to me? Why’ve you been dragging me around if you aren’t gonna-.”

“Have sex with you? Luke, I didn’t rescue you so I could have a slave,” Mohinder said firmly. Luke stared at him, palm never wavering. Damn, he almost believed him.

“Then why? What do you want?” Luke demanded.

“I want to help you. I want to help at least one person that Sylar hurt. I feel responsible for what he is…” Mohinder said softly. He stood and began walking towards Luke, seemingly unafraid of the death Luke could unleash from his palm.

“So I’m just… a project?! Some fucking experiment?” That, maybe, was worse than what Sylar had wanted out of him. Luke didn’t want to be the salve to Mohinder’s guilty conscience.

“No,” Mohinder said firmly, walking around Luke’s palm and reaching out to try to cup Luke’s face with his hand. Since with Sylar that had only been a prelude to forcing his jaw open so he could force him down on his dick in the next second, Luke flinched away, putting his hand in between him and Mohinder again.

“Luke, I didn’t pick you up out of a sense of pity. I did it because I was trying to help _you_. You’re strong, and you’ve survived the worst person I know. I’m trying to make certain the government doesn’t find you now, after everything you’ve been through-.”

“So you’re my fucking babysitter?” Luke asked sarcastically.

“No! I-,” Mohinder paused and furrowed his brow in thought. “I’m better at explaining chromosomal mapping.”

“What?”

“Exactly.” Mohinder sighed, frustrated, and dropped his hands. His head came up in the next moment, looking more hopeful. “What do _you_ want Luke?”

“Me?” Luke almost squeaked in surprise, and flushed in embarrassment. No one had ever asked him what _he_ wanted, not ever. Dad had used Luke for a punching bag, Mom had always told him what to do, Sampson had hauled him along and Luke had just been glad to share company with someone that wouldn’t tell him he was worthless, and Sylar had wanted his information and his body. 

“I… don’t know,” he said finally, hand dropping.

“Do you really want… this?” Mohinder asked, waving at Luke’s nakedness and fading arousal. 

“Does it matter? People take what they want,” Luke muttered. “You paid for the room, the food, everything.”

“I don’t own you. Do you want sex, or do you just think I do?” Mohinder persisted. “I’ll respect your decision.”

Luke blinked at Mohinder like he was speaking a foreign language. Sex for him had always been a method of payment or power, usually for someone else. It had almost not occurred to him that it could be… whatever the hell Mohinder was getting at.

But even though his brain was stuck in confused neutral, his body was now in fifth gear, revved with the adrenaline from their argument and possible fight.

“You’re not freaked out?” Luke asked instead of giving an actual answer, waving his hand vaguely at the melted TV.

Mohinder smiled slightly. “I have a power too. I’ve been studying them for years; they don’t frighten me.”

“What’s your power?” Luke demanded.

“Strength.”

 _Oh fuck, oh fuck, fuck, that is fucking hot…_ Luke thought, mind kicking into high gear. If Mohinder had wanted him, or not wanted him, there wasn’t anything Luke could have done to stop him either way. But Mohinder hadn’t forced him, or slapped him around, or even implied anything. He’d actually held back, when he could have had anything he wanted at any time. 

Luke dared to believe he might be telling the truth.

“I want to,” Luke said quickly.

Mohinder took the extra two steps forward, hand reaching out to Luke’s face again. This time Luke let him cup his jaw, long fingers caressing, and waited for the inevitable painful grip-and-push. It didn’t happen, and Luke kept feeling off-balance, as if looking for something that just wasn’t there. 

Then Mohinder leaned in and pressed his lips to Luke’s, kissing him gently. Luke stood there, dumbfounded, mouth working vaguely as Mohinder pressed in further. No one had ever bothered to kiss him since his mom when he’d been a kid. But Luke figured he could get used to it in a hurry. Drawing on what experience he had from movies, TV, and endless porno films, Luke pushed his tongue into Mohinder’s mouth, trying to match his movements, stretching his mouth wide like all those actors seemed to do.

The hand on his jaw moved to the back of his head, carefully tilting it slightly, making their mouths slide together better, and Luke actually moaned, getting turned on. Damn, Mohinder hadn’t even touched him anywhere but the face, and Luke could feel himself starting to throb. How fucked up was that?

When Mohinder pulled away, Luke chased him for a second before letting go, face flushed and breathing hard.

“Was that your first kiss?” Mohinder asked. Luke felt his face harden and he was about to issue a snappy retort when Mohinder smiled with a hint of sadness. “It’s ok, I was just wondering.”

Luke wondered when the hell he would get back to kissing him when Mohinder's hands, shocking dark against Luke’s pale skin, began to brush over his skin, just touching him lightly on the shoulders and chest. Luke felt goosebumps break out all over at the pleasant, shivery feelings, but also felt nervousness deep in his gut.

“What are you doing?” Luke asked uncertainly. Did this guy have some kind of weird fetish thing, touching but not going all the way? Did he want get Luke all hot and then watch him jerk off or something?

“Do you like it?” Mohinder asked instead.

“Yeah… but… aren’t we just gonna fuck or something?” Luke asked, feeling like he’d missed something obvious. He’d been given a choice, and he’d taken it, which was cool, but he’d been expecting things to get more normal after that, not less!

“If you want to, then I’d love to,” Mohinder said, his hand trailing back up Luke’s neck to curve along his cheek. “Luke, I like you. I just didn’t want to push you because of… what Sylar did to you.” Mohinder’s hands touched lightly, not causing any pain, over the bruise on Luke’s ribs.

“It’s nothing,” Luke said shortly. “He got pissed off that morning.”

“Luke, this should never be about pain,” Mohinder whispered, and kissed him again.

Luke shuddered under Mohinder's touch, powers momentarily shimmering around his hands before he got himself under control. Damn it, this wasn’t how things were supposed to go. Life was pain, you just got used to it, that was how Luke’s world has always worked.

But all of that went flying out of window when Mohinder dropped gracefully to his knees and took Luke’s cock in his mouth.

“Holy _shit!_ ” Luke yelled, not being able to get more creative than that. Fuck, no one had ever done that to him, not ever. Sylar wouldn’t even think about it, and no one else had ever cared about him enough to even get to the thinking stage.

Luke considered himself something of an authority on blowjobs, but it was nearly impossible to critique Mohinder’s technique when all he could feel out of his cock was white-hot pleasure. There was nothing but hot, wet friction, and Luke couldn’t care about anything more than that. He was vaguely aware of Mohinder’s hands on his hips, holding him steady in a strong grip when he would have started to thrust, but otherwise just closed his eyes and enjoyed, half-convinced this was just some intense wet dream.

Nice guys like Mohinder, smart and attractive, didn’t give voluntary blowjobs to serial-killer reject white trash. The world didn’t work that way.

Except it was. It so fucking _was_.

Luke couldn’t even talk, only moaned loudly, a higher pitch his only warning to Mohinder that he was about to cum. Mohinder didn’t even move away like most people, instead staying, sucking harder, letting Luke actually cum down his throat, _swallowing_. No one would ever swallow for him. _No fucking way that just happened…_ Luke thought, opening his eyes, expecting to find himself back in the shower, having just jerked himself off.

He only saw Mohinder getting up from the floor, wiping his mouth discretely with his hand, a smile on his face.

“You…” Luke said, and struggled to find words. He’d never had cause to be grateful to anyone for something like that in his life. He only knew one way to express the way he was feeling. “You want to fuck me?”

“Do _you_ want me to? I’m not asking for repayment, really,” Mohinder said, brushing his hand across Luke’s hair. “I don’t want to hurt you…”

Hurt him? Luke could have laughed. In less than ten minutes, Mohinder had made him feel better, no strings attached, than he ever had in his life. Maybe this wouldn’t last past an hour, and Luke didn’t want to wait to find out if he was wrong. Things were going fine _now_ , and Luke would capitalize on what he had right at this moment.

“Yeah, I want you to,” Luke said, and almost laughed at his own brazenness. He hadn’t been able to speak those words to anyone, ever. If he ever asked, someone always shut him down, or gave it to him too hard and rough for pleasure. But Mohinder hadn’t hurt him yet. It scared him to death, but Luke would take him anyway he would let him.

Smiling at him, Mohinder began to slowly unbutton his shirt. Luke couldn’t stand it, and reached over to help. Amazingly, Mohinder let him, not swatting him away. Underneath the shirt, Mohinder was tightly muscled, tight and flat, incredibly attractive and Luke groaned slightly just looking at him. He’d never been able to attract guys like that, not even when he was giving it away for free.

Mohinder shucked the rest of his clothes with ease, smiling appreciatively at Luke’s vacant leer before standing up again. He was, Luke noticed with relief, not so painfully large as Sylar, a long, elegant, slimmer curve that looked like it would fit into him without the kind of pain Sylar tended to cause.

“Yeah…” Luke said again, and reached for Mohinder, hesitating at the last second, half-expecting to get his hand slapped away. Mohinder only nodded and Luke curled a hand around Mohinder’s cock, stroking a few times just to get the measure of it. Sylar wouldn’t ever let him do that, because of his power, never mind that Sylar could heal. 

“Nice,” Mohinder murmured, eyes half-closed in pleasure. Luke smirked slightly and stroked a little harder, hand freezing when Mohinder twisted slightly away to grab at something in the bedside table drawer. A reflexive wash of rejection and bitterness flooded him before he realized Mohinder now had a tube of lube and a condom in his hand.

“Oh… right,” Luke said vaguely. Sylar had never used a condom with him, because Sylar wouldn’t ever get a disease. And Luke’s previous partners hadn’t really cared; in high school most of his classmates wouldn’t have known a condom from a party balloon, and Luke usually ended up paying the consequences. But Mohinder actually cared enough to play it safe. It was fucking weird.

“Go ahead, lie down,” Mohinder murmured, one hand stroking down Luke’s back. Shuddering slightly, remember the last time Sylar had given that order, Luke gingerly lay down on his stomach. He vaguely hoped his prep in the shower was enough; Sylar would have practically split him in two for making him wait this long.

But this time Mohinder’s fingers only tickled up the inside of Luke’s thighs with gentle pressure. Still not willing to take chances, Luke spread himself wide, providing the easiest possible target. The pain would be less that way…

“Fuck…” Luke breathed suddenly, as a long, slim, lube-slicked finger circled his entrance, just teasing lightly. It felt amazing, and Luke tried to push back to get more contact. He wasn’t used to someone just _touching_ him; he needed more. 

Mohinder obliged by slowly easing in the first finger, fantastically slick, and twisting it slightly. At Luke’s pleasurable moan, he eased in a second, and finally a third, twisting carefully, delving and separating. After being fucked by Sylar on a regular basis, there wasn’t as much of a burn, but the slick touch was still fantastic. Luke just enjoyed the feeling, knowing this time it wasn’t going to hurt so badly, when Mohinder’s long, questing fingers unexpectedly hit a spot that drove a lightning bolt of pleasure right through Luke’s spine.

“Fuck!” he nearly shrieked into the cover, a burning smell revealing he’d temporarily lost control of his power and scorched it. Luke couldn’t care less. “God, what was _that?_ ”

“Prostate,” Mohinder said, a smile in his tone. Damn, this had never happened with Sylar…

“Do it again, please, please, fuck, do it again…” Luke begged, not caring what happened as long as he could feel it-! Luke shouted into the cover again and again as the feeling shot through him over and over, realized he was screaming Mohinder’s name, and didn’t fucking care. He was hard again and Mohinder’s hands were in his ass, and it felt like he was stroking his soul from the inside out and he only wanted _more_.

“I want to fuck you Luke, please. Will you let me?”

Mohinder’s voice was at his ear, that pretty accent and prettier words _asking Luke’s permission to make him feel like this._ Luke could have died happy right then, and nodded so hard he nearly gave himself rug burn on his forehead. 

There was a faint crinkle behind him, a sound of rubber on flesh, of lube on rubber, and then Mohinder’s cock was pushing into him. And there was no pain, no pain at all. Luke hadn’t known it didn’t have to hurt.

Mohinder went slow, the curve of his cock fitting into Luke just right, big enough to feel everything, not big enough to hurt. Luke bit the cover under him when he moved out, then in again, twitching his hips carefully at each inward stroke, managing to find that one spot again when Luke shouted. Hands closed on his hips when Mohinder set up a rhythm, one that Luke actually felt up to joining, knowing Mohinder wasn’t going to clout him for taking the initiative. 

He shoved back eagerly, Mohinder keeping him from ramming too hard, the pace strangely slow from the “wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am” fast fucks that had been Luke’s sole experiences with sex up until now. Each long slide in seemed to hit the right place, and each pull out left Luke wanting more. 

“You feel so good Luke, so good,” Mohinder murmured. 

“Don’t stop, just don’t stop,” Luke begged, helping Mohinder push himself deep. Again and again, long blissful slides in and out, so amazing, drawing Luke’s pleasure out, stringing it along. It felt like hours before Mohinder’s pace quickened for a half-dozen strokes.

“I’m cumming Luke,” he cried out in a strangled voice, and, damn it, Luke came just from that alone, before he felt the heat from Mohinder’s cock pulse in his insides. Mohinder collapsed lightly onto Luke’s back, breathing heavily, not squashing him to the bed like Sylar would have done. 

It only seemed moments later when Mohinder moved, slowly and carefully pulling himself out so that there was virtually no pain. Luke gasped as his body began to adjust back to normal, turning quickly to finish what he’d started. Even though he hated the taste of his own ass, Sylar always made him clean his cock before going to take a shower. 

But Mohinder was already in the bathroom, coming back with two lukewarm wet washcloths. Blinking at the almost incomprehensible courtesy, Luke grabbed the washcloths, heating them both briefly for a second before handing one back to Mohinder. 

“That’s remarkably handy,” Mohinder remarked, as they cleaned themselves off.

“I guess…” Luke said, all his old nervousness and defensiveness returning now that the sex was over. Surely this was where it all fell apart somehow.

“We can shower later… And I don’t know about you, but after that, I think I could use a nap,” Mohinder confessed. Luke looked at the clock and blinked. It was almost noon already. But he was right, Luke was so drained from his orgasms, and Mohinder’s strange behavior, that all he wanted to do was sleep. 

Mohinder walked over to the other bed, and Luke resigned himself to finding a semi-dry spot on the one he was on, until he heard Mohinder clear his throat. He turned to find Mohinder lying in the clean bed, covers pulled up and a clear invitation on his face. Luke didn’t stop to question his good fortune, just slid into Mohinder’s grasp and pulling the covers around him, asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

It wasn’t until a couple of hours later that Luke’s eyes popped open and his brain began to churn. Mohinder was apparently awake too, as his hand was curled protectively over Luke, stroking gently over his stomach. The gesture was too personal, too intense, too _nice_ , and Luke felt himself shaking. What had he done to deserve this kind of caring attention? He was a murderer, a failure, a stupid kid who couldn’t even get running away right. Why was Mohinder doing this to him?

“Why?” Luke asked suddenly, voice breaking, struggling upright on the bed, even as Mohinder tried to hold him in his arms. He knew he should just try to enjoy the pleasurable interlude while it lasted, but he had too many questions that he couldn’t answer. Too many ways in which his world had been turned upside down to accept this without a qualm. “Why me? Why do this to me? Why do you even care? I’m just a dumbfuck psychopathic kid that’s already got a murder on his rap sheet. I hung out with a serial killer because he was the coolest guy I’d ever met.”

Mohinder didn’t even hesitate in his answers; he must have been thinking about them even longer than Luke had been about his questions.

“My hands aren’t clean either, Luke. I wasn’t born with my power; I researched a formula and gave it to myself. A lot of people were hurt in my search, some died. I was trying so hard to find myself, to prove my worth to my father’s memory and everyone who was depending on me, that it didn’t seem to matter what happened to me or anyone else along the way,” Mohinder said, dark eyes watching him in the dim light.

“It took me a long time to learn the only really important person you need to care about is yourself. If you can’t do that, you’re only going to hurt yourself and everyone around you,” he concluded. “If you can care about yourself, then you don’t need to hurt others.”

Luke stared at him, actually _listening_ to what he was saying, and felt himself starting to break. Luke hadn’t cared what happened to _Luke_ for years. It didn’t matter. Life sucked and then you died. But now a hundred things suddenly shifted in his heart and mind, and it was like being one of those Bible-thumping born again _praise God, thank you Jesus_ religion freaks, feeling like some kind of new person.

“You’re not worthless. You never were. I like you Luke. I see myself in you, and I don’t want you to destroy yourself. You’re worth more than Sylar,” Mohinder said.

“I…” Luke paused, and actually felt the hard lump in his chest break. He started to sob, and let himself be drawn back to into Mohinder’s arms. He clung to him, howling, screaming out years of rejection, pain, and self-loathing. He cried, wetting Mohinder’s chest with tears, but for once never felt like he was about to be punished for showing weakness. 

Some time later, hours, minutes, who the hell knew, Luke had finally run out of tears. Mohinder continued to hold him close, and Luke relaxed in his arms as much as he could, drifting off to sleep again. He couldn’t take this at full face value, and maybe never would, but at least now he cared enough to try.


End file.
